Post Batman Begins: Bruce’s life grows even more complicated when Wayne Manor receives a new inhabitant…Dick Grayson. The boy hides behind a wall of silence, scarred by his tragic past. But Batman is going to teach this crippled bird how to fly. Moved fro

A/N
This little plot bunny 'twas born, unsurprisingly, upon the viewing
of Batman Begins. Although I have had some exposure to the old
shows, this story is based primarily upon BB.

Rated
for two scenes of moderate violence.

Disclaimer:
I do not own Batman (or Bruce Wayne), or any technology thereby
associated. I do not own Robin (or Dick Grayson), or any boy
wonderfulness thereby achieved. I do not own Alfred (or a British
accent), or any excellent service thereby rendered. I do not own
Christian Bale. (Sigh…)

"Your
ward, Bruce, your legal responsibility. And you've ignored
him, abandoned him to the lawyers, who dumped him in foster care. You
know how I found him?" He figured it was a rhetorical question
since she plunged on without waiting for an answer. "In a drug
bust. A drug bust. Apparently a little sideline of the couple
who ran the distribution center was milking social services. They had
seven children crammed into a filthy hole of a room, while they
collected support money and got free labor. They had the kids rolling
coke into cigars."

The
story was terrible, but hardly shocking. "Typical Gotham," Bruce
remarked quietly.

"Is
that all you can say?" Rachel hissed in disgust. "You think the
only time you have any responsibility for people is when you're
wearing a mask and a…"

She
broke off as Bruce's hand grabbed her shoulder in an iron grip.
Realizing what she had almost said, Rachel flushed and glanced around
the empty conference room. But she knew too well that in Gotham, just
looking like you were alone was no indication that you were. "Sorry,"
she muttered, "but you do have a responsibility to the boy."

"Yes,
and that's the part I don't quite understand. The only relatives
I ever remember having are an elderly aunt and a second cousin,
neither of whom is named…what was it again?"

"Grayson,
Richard Grayson," Rachel replied stiffly, and looked pointedly at
the hand that still rested on her shoulder.

"How
can Richard possibly be my responsibility?" Bruce quietly dropped
his hand to his side.

Now
a look of puzzlement entered her eyes. "You mean you don't know?"

"No,"
he said patiently. "That's what I've been trying to tell you
for the past five minutes."

Rachel
turned a brilliant red and muttered, "Well excuse me for thinking
you know what goes on in your own company."

"It's
a big company."

Realizing
she no longer had the advantage, Rachel switched to brisk and
businesslike. "The boy was willed to you."

Bruce
frowned. "Impossible…I never consented to such a thing."

"Well,
not to you exactly," Rachel conceded. "To the Wayne Corporation.
Charles Grayson, Richard's father, was hired the year after you
disappeared. His contract contained a clause to the effect that
should anything happen to him while he was in the employ of the Wayne
Corporation, the company would take responsibility for his family.
Charles was killed two years after he signed the contract. His wife
received support checks until, well…" She trailed off, compassion
written across her lovely face.

"How
did she die?" Bruce inquired.

"She
was killed in the chaos caused by Crane's nerve gas. Ran into some
of the Arkham inmates." She couldn't repress a slight shudder as
she remembered her own horrifying experiences under the influence of
the hallucinogen.

"I
see." Bruce's mouth was hard. "Where is the boy?"

"I
left him with your secretary."

Without
another word he scooped up his briefcase and strode out the room,
pulling a cell phone from his suit coat pocket. Rachel scurried after
him. "What are you going to do?"

"Call
Alfred."

"What?"

"It's
what I usually do when I'm expecting a house guest."

"Wait…you
mean you're taking him home with you? That is not a good
idea."

He
stopped, thumb poised above 'dial.' "Isn't that what you
wanted?"

"I
wanted you to pull some strings and find him a nice home with a nice
family."

"I
have a nice home."

"It's
not about having a mansion!" Glancing at some passing executives,
Rachel stepped closer and lowered her voice. "You are not exactly a
father figure. Richard needs someone to spend time with him, to keep
him safe." Bruce slowly raised one dark eyebrow, and Rachel
realized that 'keep him safe' might not have been the greatest
phrase to discourage a crime fighter. "He needs an authority figure
to be a good example he can copy," she said coldly.

"Ah,
you think I'll be a bad influence on him," Bruce accused.

"Yes!
No…I don't know." Rachel's shoulders slumped. She hadn't
had a full night's sleep in a week, and this confrontation was more
complicated than she had bargained for.

"Maybe
you're right," Bruce said, and dropped the phone back into his
pocket.

Rachel's
head flew up at the quiet admission, but he was already striding down
the hallway, and she had to run to catch up. "So what are you going
to do?" she again demanded, panting slightly.

"I
don't know," he admitted. He pushed through the door and froze.
There, swallowed by a brown leather chair, was a slight,
blonde-headed boy. The same little boy that Rachel had sheltered on
Crane's night of horrors. The same little boy who defied his
friends and believed in Batman…

Richard
Grayson's face was young, but his eyes were ancient. The grief and
loneliness of loss did not give children time to grow up. Bruce knew
that all too well. An unexpected surge of fierce protectiveness
washed over him, a burning desire to protect this child and seek
justice for the evil he had suffered. The Batman instinct,
Bruce thought wryly.

Batman.
Rachel had refused to love him because she believed he had nothing
left to give to a relationship, a family. Maybe she was right. But if
he had unconsciously neglected this child once, there was no way he
could knowingly abandon him now.

Pulling
the phone from his pocket, he hit the buttons without taking his eyes
from that still, small figure. "Alfred?"

"Yes,
Master Wayne."

"We're
going to have a guest."

------

Will
Bruce succeed in claiming his ward, or will Rachel's mistrust
prevail?

Don't
forget to join us for the exciting continuation – same bat-time,
same bat-channel.

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